My Fangs Are Up Here
by sweet-and-simple
Summary: He couldn't remember second for second what he had done.  But he saw action for action the consequences of it. 8027 RL
1. I'm So Sorry

He couldn't remember second for second what he had done. But he saw action for action the consequences of it.

Sawada Tsunayoshi – Dame-Tsuna, No-Good Tsuna, Useless Tsuna – hid around the corridor from where three very concerned girls were cornering one popular, sports freak Yamamoto Takeshi.

"You look so pale, Yamamoto-kun, are you hungry?" the first asked.

"A little," Yamamoto answered, skin nearly as white as his ever present smile.

"Your eyes are really dark today, Yamamoto-kun," stated the second. Then she added, "They're really red. And you look really tired."

Heavy purple bags weighed down on the baseball star's eyelids. "You don't have to worry about me," said Yamamoto.

"Did you hurt yourself, Yamamoto-kun?" the third whispered, staring pointedly at the white bandage held against Yamamoto's jugular with medical tape.

Yamamoto laughed. Then he turned his head and stared at him, as if he had known he was there the entire time. "Hey, Tsuna!" He disengaged from the gaggle of girls and came towards him. "I've been waiting for you…"

The small brunette tilted his head down as the three girls began to whisper and glare at him.

"Dame-Tsuna," said the first.

"He shouldn't bother Yamamoto-kun," growled the second.

"_Freak_," spat the third.

If Yamamoto heard them, he ignored them as he loped an arm around Tsuna's shoulders, dragging the smaller boy against his side. He tilted Tsuna's chin up with one hand and held him there as his lips descended over his, plying his mouth open and slipping in.

The three girls were cast into horror before making a quick, heartbroken retreat.

It was minutes before the sports star pulled away, a wisp of gold following him as he tilted back and his scarlet eyes closed. His skin gained back its bronze hue. The heavy bags under his eyes lightened.

Tsuna's face hid in Yamamoto's shoulder, weak in the knees and hands shaking. "I'm sorry."

Yamamoto laughed. "Don't worry about it, Tsuna. You did what you had to do." He held an arm around Tsuna's waist, supporting him. "Let's get to class, okay?"

"Okay…"

~::~

Tsuna was an abused boy by the time he got home that night. Littered with bruises and scratches, he limped up the stairs to his room.

No one had taken kindly to him and Yamamoto being an "item". Little did they know.

His forehead cracked tiredly against his door as he tried and failed to open it with clumsy hands. He was drained in more ways than one, exhausted. The skin was peeling off his nose and cheeks and across the back of his hands.

That was what he got for forgetting to put on sunscreen before leaving that morning.

The door opened, sending him stumbling forward, and for a moment, he thought he had finally succeeded. Then he landed against a hard chest where a heart beat slowly, almost lethargically, against his ear. His hands came up and fisted in the fabric covering said chest, the scent of dirt and sweat and cotton assaulting his nostrils.

"Mah mah, you look tired, Tsuna." Fingers tangled in the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him back so that he was forced to meet scarlet eyes. Deep, dark scarlet eyes. "And hungry." He laughed. "This isn't good, I'm really hungry too."

The small brunette swallowed thickly. "It's okay. I'm just not used to sharing, so… It's really okay. Just take what you need and I'll be fine."

"I don't know, you look like you don't have much to give."

He could deny it all he wanted, but they both knew it as the truth. So Tsuna looked away from Yamamoto and blushed as he told himself that any sacrifice was worth it for the sports star. After all, it was all Tsuna's fault he was like this anyway. "There's another way to f-feed…"

"Why do you look so embarrassed?"

"B-because I've never fed… _that_ way before. M-much less fed someone else like that."

"Wow, this sounds really interesting. Are you talking about this way?" He touched the bandage across his throat.

"I-I don't have good blood t-to give." Tsuna gulped and reached for his sweater, unbuttoning it. "There's o-one other way."

"Whoa, Tsuna! What are you doing?"

"M-my tutor told me that there is a-always one foolproof way t-to get sustenance." His caramel eyes lightened impossibly, like Yamamoto's had darkened, and caramel became tangerine. "Sexual energy."

~::~

Tsuna was confused. He had never had sex before, had never even thought about having sex before, though he had had some perverted moments where he had glimpsed up a girl's skirt or watched a guy change in the boy's locker room. Things like physical pleasure had never dawned on him.

"_H-haaaa! W-what's g-g-going onnnn…?"_

His dad said it was because he was a late bloomer.

"_Y-Yama – Nnnnn!"_

His mom said it was because he was waiting, without he himself knowing, for his most special person to come along and whisk him away like a fairy tale prince (or princess)!

_Hands glided up from his waist to simultaneously catch in his sweat-slicked hair and hold his chin in place as a hot mouth slid over his like two puzzle pieces coming together, tongues batting, no taking or giving involved except for something instinctively carnal, addictive, musky – _

His tutor said it was because he was such an idiot, even his body was too stupid for its own good.

_He had to rip away as something inside of him was attacked, nails leaving long, deep red furrows across Yamamoto's back and shoulders, screaming. He was blind, blind, deaf, what? SO GOOD –_

Maybe he had needed to have sex to start thinking about sex.

"_M-more! Please h-hit that spot m-m-mmmmm!"_

Because, suddenly, it was all he could think about.

_Yamamoto's smirk was hindered, or maybe enhanced, by sharp fangs sticking over his bottom lip, eyes glowing down at him, and he answered sweetly, with an answering blush and stammer of his own, "I-I've got m-more to g-give! TSUNA!"_

Tsuna rested his hot face against the surface of his cool desk. He had said and done a lot of things last night he wasn't sure he would ever be able to forget. His tutor said that having sex for sustenance was no big deal – after all, plenty of people had sex constantly for no good reason. It only became a big deal if they ended up becoming mates.

_Yamamoto lazily drifted pecks and kisses down his jaw and throat to the slope of his collarbone, his one arm Tsuna's pillow and the other stroking his side. They were heavy and full, both healthily glowing, in the aftermath of what had just happened._

But he couldn't imagine having anyone else with him like that… At the same time, he knew he couldn't have Yamamoto like his dad had his mom. It wasn't fair to the other teen! Tsuna had already taken so much from him, he couldn't monopolize his sex life too.

"_I like this way of feeding," Yamamoto hummed as Tsuna blinked drearily up at him, halfway in and out of sleep. "This makes me happy to be hungry all the time!"_

Besides, no matter how often Yamamoto tried to assure him, Tsuna knew the sports star had to hate him somewhere deep in his heart. So the chances of them falling in love were about zip to nothing. It was impossible to be mates if they didn't care deeply about each other.

_Yamamoto laughed. "Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm getting hungry right now." He rolled over till he was on top of Tsuna. "Can I eat you again? Please, Tsuna, Plleeeaaaassseee?" He widened his eyes and quivered his bottom lip playfully at him. "Feed me, please!"_

"HIEE –" he slapped his hands over his mouth as the other students and sensei turned to look at him. "S-sorry…"

Sorry wasn't good enough, apparently.

The sensei scolded him for fifteen minutes, demanded that he come after school for a detention, and then gave him twice as much homework as everyone else in his class. It wasn't till he dismissed Tsuna in a huff that the small brunette could turn his attention to the source of his scream.

_Yamamoto was so deep down his throat, he couldn't breathe. The sports star was trying his hardest to stop himself from choking him. Tsuna could feel his struggle, thighs trembling and abdomen tight with tension against Tsuna's small hands – _

He pulled out his cell phone from his front pocket – the culprit – and immediately, before anything else, turned off vibrate and put it back on a mosquito ringtone.

_Fair play – Yamamoto supported it. The tight heat around Tsuna's penis made him want to climax right then and there. Hands tangled in Yamamoto's hair. Biting down on his bottom lip, he had to hold it, hold it, HOLD IT –_

Then he checked his messages.

**1 message received**

Click.

**September 3, 20XX 12:42 AM**

**Text from Yamamoto Takeshi:**

**im hungry! :DDDD**

**Meet me rftop plz**

Tsuna's face grew hot and his legs were suddenly too weak to hold him up. He stumbled and fell against the nearest wall, avoiding looking up at a group of teens passing him by.

_Yamamoto ran his tongue over his mouth, a drop of seed just outside its reach, as he glowered predatorily up at the panting, exhausted Tsuna. "Let's do that again."_

He had to wonder – he would be a fool not to wonder – if he was going insane. This didn't feel like it was "no big deal", so shouldn't he stop it before something bad happened? But then it didn't matter, because he owed it to Yamamoto to give him what he needed without complaining.

_Yamamoto had to carry him to the bathroom and wash him off before setting him down in the tub, on his lap, as the raven-haired teen simply didn't trust him to not pass out in the water and drown himself. Then his hands began to wander and Tsuna knew they weren't done._

He limped all the way to the rooftop, feeling uncomfortably hard and his insides were turning to mush. Yamamoto was already there, looking up at the bright, clear sky through sunglasses. His nostrils flared before he turned his hidden eyes on him and a slow, perverted smirk spread his lips.

"_I want more," Yamamoto whispered into his ear. "Can I have more?"_

"Hey, Tsuna! Can we do this that way we did last night?"

_And Tsuna croaked, after hours of screaming and groaning and moaning and keening and whining – _

"Y-yeah..."

_Because he couldn't say no. If this was what Yamamoto wanted, then he wouldn't deny him anything._

~::~

"You look better than ever." Lambo Bovino – Italian. Use: Catalyst. He popped open a bag of skittles and dumped them all in his mouth at one time. A thin trail of juice seeped out of the corner of his lips.

"Well, I've been getting sustenance regularly now…" Tsuna squirmed. His mind swam with images from the five hours spent on the school rooftop just that afternoon.

The Italian swallowed his sugar dose and raised an eyebrow at him. "Have you now? Do I want to know?"

"_No_! I mean, n-no. It's not anything bad or something like that."

"Of course not."

"I mean, Reborn said I had to start building u-up my own family, so i-it's not like it's _wrong_."

"You doing something wrong? Impossible."

"It _is_ impossible! No one's hurt or mad or, or wants to take a stake to my heart."

"That would be bad if someone did."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"You want to talk about it?" Lambo's glowing green eyes, impossible to read and yet they so easily read others, saw right through him.

He tried to hide from those eyes behind his wild head of hair, hands tugging at his bangs, trying to block his face. "Not really."

The catalyst discovered grape mints in his cow-print jacket. "Then we might as well get this over with. Yare, yare, I remember the good old days when people said what was on their minds…"

"You're only fifteen," Tsuna pointed out dryly.

Those glowing green eyes pinned him down where he sat. "Are you sure?"

These days? Tsuna couldn't be sure of anything.

Lambo got to his feet and stood over him, dipping down so that his mouth was centimeters over his. "Just take what you need, fledgling."

"I'm worried about taking too much."

"That's why I'm a catalyst. There's no such thing as taking too much. Haven't we already gone over this?"

They had, many times. But Tsuna couldn't get over the fear that he would pull away and Lambo would drop to the ground, never to get up again.

"Besides," Lambo held up the grape mints, one among countless number of teeth-rotting sweets on his person, "I've got my sugar to keep me going." He smiled gently. "So just take."

Tsuna closed his eyes and did as he was told.

At least, this way, he could give Yamamoto more the next time he saw him.

~::~

Outside of sustaining Yamamoto with his body and other life essences (but not blood), something weird began to happen.

Tsuna had a bad feeling the moment he ran out his front door, late for school, and saw Yamamoto waiting idly for him against the gate. "Yamamoto-kun?"

"Tsuna!" The sports star gave him a brilliant smile. "You're late! Mah mah, I don't think we're going to make it to school on time now…"

Despite his bad feeling, it was overcome by something stronger – complete and utter joy. He had never had someone wait to walk with him before.

Two days later, though, that bad feeling came back, stronger, clutching at him like sticky fingers wrenching on his gut.

"Yamamoto-kun, don't you have practice today?" They were walking through the park, Tsuna's face red as Yamamoto contentedly swung their hands (_why were they holding hands?_) between them.

"Mmm? Oh, yeah, that!" He laughed. "Yeah, but I wanted to spend more time with you."

He was touched. Then he was scared. "Have you noticed that you've been getting kind of…" How could he say it without sounding mean?

"Kind of what?" Yamamoto blinked naively down at him.

"Kind of obsessive?"

The raven-haired teen thought about it honestly for a moment. "Wow, you're right." He slouched his shoulders and his eyes lost their lively hue. "Have I made you uncomfortable, Tsuna? It's just that I feel like I have to be with you all the time or else you won't be there when I turn around… Isn't it sad? It's like I'm a baby or something like that." He laughed again, without humor.

Horror grabbed Tsuna's soul with thin, icy hands. That was exactly what Yamamoto was – a baby. Fledgling. _Tsuna's_ fledgling. Tsuna had made him like this…

"Tsuna? Tsuna! I'm sorry, did I upset you? I didn't mean to!" Yamamoto wiped the small brunette's face with his sleeve. "I'm sorry."

It was too late to stop the tears, though. He gazed up at Yamamoto with all the pain and regret and guilt he felt, stopping the sports star dead in his tracks. "I-I'm sorry t-too. That I-I made you like this."

Strong, warm arms came around him and squeezed him to Yamamoto's thick chest. "Don't be. It's not that bad, heck, it's even better! I can smell more things, my hearing's great, I'm faster, stronger, and I can see a lot further! And I get to be with you; I think that's the best bonus of all."

Tsuna closed his eyes and cried as quietly as he could. "I'm sorry!"

"I don't want you to be."

"I'm sorry…"

"I'm not."

"_I'm sorry_."

Yamamoto pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Okay, Tsuna. I forgive you."

Tsuna didn't believe him.

~::~

Tsuna had learned that he could manipulate Yamamoto back into his usual schedule through the simplest and most heartbreaking of ways –

Just by being there with him.

"I want to watch you play baseball."

Yamamoto's head whipped up like a dog on the scent of bacon. "Really?" Math homework forgotten, he turned himself towards Tsuna with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face that the brunette had ever seen. "I never took you for someone who liked sports!"

"W-well, it's not that I don't like them, it's just that I'm not good at them." As he wasn't good at many things.

"It's okay, Tsuna, I'll teach you!" He laughed delightedly. "This is going to be a lot of fun. C'mon, let's head down to the baseball field right now."

There was no stopping him.

Not that Tsuna tried.

The next Tuesday, Tsuna was in the bleachers, breath leaving smoky trails in the cold air, gloved hands tucked close to his body, as Yamamoto, dedicated as he was, trained for the upcoming baseball season with his team.

His team wasn't sure why Tsuna was there, but as long as it meant that Yamamoto was back, none of them were questioning it. Instead, the small brunette got plenty of dirty looks, like their star player's absences were his fault.

Tsuna's bangs hid his guilt-ridden gaze. They were right. It really was his fault. But he was trying to make it better in the few ways that he could.

"Tsuna!" Yamamoto was waving at him when he looked up, beaming with pride and something almost animalistic, something that made the tilt of his smile exceedingly sharp at the corners. Tsuna couldn't name what it was, but he knew he didn't like it. "Watch me, okay?"

He pushed his less than comforting thoughts away. "Okay!"

By the end of training, everyone was looking at him differently.

"You must be sempai's lucky charm!" said one of the younger players. Four others nodded in agreement.

Tsuna flushed. "Why do you say that?"

"Well," began another one, "Yamamoto-san was already our best player. But now he's even better! We can't lose when he's this strong and determined!"

The two that had spoken and five others bowed to him. A third voice cried, "Please come to all our baseball games so kohei will be undefeatable!"

"PLEASE!" screamed them all in unison.

The small brunette scratched the back of his head shyly. "Um, o-okay. I'll try to be here as often as I can."

He might as well have handed them each a wishing star for how they looked at him, like dreams really did come true.

"Mah mah," said a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone. Yamamoto was exiting the boy's locker room, hair still damp from his shower and equipment bag cast over his shoulder. "What's going on here?"

Tsuna thought that there was, perhaps, or his eyes were fooling him into seeing, jealousy in Yamamoto's darkening copper gaze.

But the team didn't notice because Yamamoto still wore that insanely sloppy grin and looked relaxed enough to take a bullet to the shoulder and still laugh it off.

"No-Good – I mean, Tsuna-kun said he'd be coming to all of our games!" cheered one player. "So make sure to always try your hardest like you did today, kouhei!"

"Eh? Really?" The jealousy was gone, if it had ever been, and his smile grew impossibly bigger. "That's great!"

Tsuna rubbed his gloved hands together, looking down. Something about this wasn't right.

Something was wrong with Yamamoto Takeshi.

~::~

Yamamoto's room was small. There was a bed to one side and a small TV to the corner of it. Sports posters were overlapping and competing with each other on the walls, so many in number that faces and games blurred together just by looking at a section of it. Hanging from a rack were four different equipment bags, tags sowed into their fabrics reading off, in order, SOCCER, VOLLEYBALL, TRACK, and then BASEBALL.

There was also a closet. Though it took Tsuna a moment to find it.

"Do you like it?"

"HIIEE! Y-Yamamoto-kun!" He was getting so sneaky! "You're back… with… sushi."

Yamamoto laughed. "Yep! My old man said I had to feed you while you were here. I don't have many friends over, so he's really excited. Especially after meeting you." He looked down at him with warm eyes. Tsuna was confounded by the emotions he saw swirling there. "He thinks you're a pretty cool kid!"

"R-really?" Tsuna was touched. Yamamoto might have not had many friends over – but Tsuna had never been over anywhere. Kids never seemed to like him, so they never bothered taking him over to their houses or introducing him to their families. "I think he's pretty cool too." Then he blinked, because he thought he saw something weird.

He stared and realized that he hadn't thought so, but had. Yamamoto's grip on the food tray was leaving dents in the aluminum. His usually jolly grin was strained. "But not as cool as me, right?"

Tsuna had a moment of clarity – but it was gone before he could figure out what it was clarity of. The tray of sushi dropped to the ground and Yamamoto stepped over it on his way to him, grabbing him by his butt and lifting him up against him, grinding their manhoods together as he made a quick detour to the bed.

Tsuna never got the chance to answer the question.

Yamamoto didn't ask again.

~::~

_Author's Note: MORE TO COME. Mwa hah hah hah!_


	2. About Everything I've Done,

Tsuna had an appointment to meet with a blood donor in nine days, even though he and Yamamoto were well fed just from having each other. It was good to introduce new sources of sustenance every once in awhile instead of recycling the same energy through their systems. That was why Tsuna also made sure to keep his meetings with Lambo – the more Tsuna was nourished, the more Yamamoto would be nourished off of him.

But, before he could make that date, he had to have a session with his tutor.

Reborn was a tall, foreboding man in a black hitman suit and fedora. His eyes – like someone had cut out two holes in his skull and stuck obsidian in them, erasing sclera, iris, and pupil in a blanket of glossy black – could send any man or beast to their knees, powerless against his cold glare and unfeeling smirk.

Tsuna was no such man or beast worth mentioning. He was just Dame-Tsuna, No-Good Tsuna, Useless Tsuna. But he had found that, after ten years of off and on being visited by the monster that was Reborn, all he felt when those eyes turned on him was exasperation and suspicion.

Those eyes said to him, _"I'm up to something"_ and that smirk taunted, _"You'll never figure out what"._

"Chaos," Reborn greeted the moment Tsuna got home from school that day, permanently walking with a limp and hyperaware of the bruises on his hips and thighs. Reborn took all of this in with one sweep of his glare and his smirk grew. "I heard you took on a baby, but doing such naughty things with your own fledgling? I never knew you were so lewd."

"H-he was hungry!"

"There are other ways to feed a baby, Dame-Tsuna."

"But I didn't have energy to give and I can't give my blood to him, so –"

"Which raises the question of how you changed him."

Tsuna flinched. "I… I took his blood… B-but then I, I didn't give him mine, I g-gave him my lifeforce instead."

"And now why. Why did you change him? I thought you were going to deny your nature." Reborn's expression was cast in shadows, exposing nothing but a fanged leer. "Or is that how it happened? Did you let yourself go hungry, Dame-Tsuna? Were you so ravenous that you attacked a civilian? Let me guess what happened next – you felt so guilty, so scared that he would die, that you changed him."

"That wasn't what happened at all!"

"Oh? Then what did happen?"

"I-I was…" His head hung low. "It's true…"

"Now you know better, don't you?"

He did know better. He bit his bottom lip to stop its trembling. "I hate myself."

"Why?"

"I-I took his h-humanity a-away… b-but he k-keeps telling me i-it's no b-big deal a-and he's s-so nice to m-me… I-it only makes me feel wo-worse." Especially since Yamamoto was acting so weird. That was Tsuna's fault too.

"There's no use crying over it. You can't make him human again, just like you can't become human yourself. Suck it up, Dame-Tsuna. Now that you have a baby, at least I know you're not alone anymore." Reborn twirled one of his sideburns thoughtfully. "Maybe I should send some loners your way to build up your family."

It sounded like a suggestion. That was, if it was possible for Reborn to make suggestions.

"Please don't! I can barely take care of Yamamoto-kun, much less take on anyone else!"

"Yamamoto?"

"… Yamamoto Takeshi…"

"Ah. I remember seeing him from time to time. Good choice; he looks like the type to learn fast unlike some Dame-student of mine."

Tsuna sulked at the insult. "Y-yeah…" His body throbbed. _Want_, it practically screamed at him. _Want more_. His face flushed scarlet.

Reborn's nostrils flared. "You're so shameless, Dame-Tsuna."

"Mind your own business!"

"I can smell him all over you and now you're getting hard just thinking about him? How often have you been feeding him?"

"F-four, five times a day… He gets really hungry a lot."

"That's normal for a baby. The hunger will simmer down after a few more weeks or months. It all depends on the fledgling and when they're ready to sustain themselves. Hopefully, he'll do a better job than you did."

_And avoid doing what you did_, were the unsaid words. The small brunette tucked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. It was impossible for Yamamoto to be normal now because Tsuna had been so selfish. Like Reborn had said, though, it was useless crying over it. This wasn't Rapunzel where he could revive Yamamoto with his tears. Not that their kind was dead anyway. "I don't remember ever being as hungry as him."

"That's because you were born this way. Now introduce your baby to me."

"What are you t-"

His bedroom door crashed open, nearly ripped off its hinges, as Yamamoto stood in the entranceway. Eyes scarlet, fangs extended, his nostrils flared as he found Reborn across the room with so much hatred and distrust in his bloody glare that Tsuna felt his heart stop. A growl began low in Yamamoto's throat.

Tsuna shrank away from him. "Hiiieee! Y-Yamamoto-kun?"

"Chaos." Reborn didn't move a muscle as he greeted the bloodthirsty teen. "Aren't you going to introduce me now? Before he gets himself killed trying to attack me."

"I don't understand!" Yamamoto's eternally crimson glare turned slowly to the small brunette.

Those eyes, usually so warm, so kind, so _gentle_, were like a beast's. No, not even beasts could look as vicious as Yamamoto did. Monsters in the closet and under the bed were nothing against the creature in the doorway.

So what was with that flash of something in Yamamoto's eyes when he saw him? Almost like he was… relieved.

"He's just a baby, Dame-Tsuna. It's instinct for him to be territorial and possessive of you. So introduce me already, you're the only person he'll listen to right now."

He thought back to the baseball team and Yamamoto's dad, the look in his eyes. Now it made sense, or, at least, more sense than it had. But he hadn't reacted like this before, so why now…?

Because it was Reborn, he thought to himself, and Reborn always carried the air of something anciently powerful. Yamamoto must be able to feel that and perceive Reborn as a greater enemy than humans.

Then he snapped out of his thoughts. Something was moving out of the corner of his eye, bringing a heavy, musty scent with it. _Yamamoto_, hyped up on hormones and animalistic impulse. He crouched in front of Tsuna like he thought he needed protecting, like he thought he was a _guard dog_. And he snarled at Reborn, "_Leave_."

"Yamamoto-kun!" gasped Tsuna. He caught Reborn's eye under the brim of his fedora and gulped thickly. "Y-Yamamot-kun, I'm… I'm okay. This is Reborn, my tutor. That means that he teaches me about everything I am and how to take care of myself, s-so he's not… well…" He couldn't say he was in no danger or that Reborn was one of the good guys. Neither was true. "You don't have to attack him… f-for me."

"Don't forget to reassure him as your mate," Reborn said. Then, at Tsuna's shocked expression, tacked on, "He _is_ your mate, isn't he?"

"… _Mate_?" Yamamoto hissed, still tense, still ready to pounce, still a mass of barely restrained vengeance.

Tsuna ran a shaky hand through his hair. "A mate is like a husband or a wife… Except there's no wedding and it lasts a lot longer than m-marriage. Reborn has one, so he's not interested in me _like that_."

Nothing happened for awhile. The balance of Yamamoto's sanity clung to a very thin, very weak string of consciousness that Tsuna couldn't even begin to fathom.

Then he stood up straight, slowly, carefully coming back to himself, and the heavy air dissipated. "Have a good day, mister."

"Thank you, Takeshi." Reborn emerged from his seat in a serpentine flex of movement that was too smooth not to be creepy. "While we're on the subject on mates, Lambo wanted me to tell you to stop whining so much and just take what you need." Tsuna saw a flicker of something uncharacteristically soft in Reborn's glossy glare before he tipped his fedora low over his face. "He can give more than your take, Dame-Tsuna."

He grabbed the door on his way out and it groaned pitifully as it was forced back into its jamb.

It wasn't till minutes later that Yamamoto gingerly took a seat on Tsuna's bed. "What did he mean about this Lambo guy?"

"It's not what you think." Tsuna carefully edged away from the other teen. "Lambo's a catalyst, like an endless source of energy that just keeps growing. If he doesn't get rid of excess energy somehow, he could cause a lot of damage, so he let's our kind feed off of him. Everyone wins…" Except him and Yamamoto, the sports star more than him.

Yamamoto used to be so kind and generous and sweet – now all Tsuna could think about was how terrified he had felt when Yamamoto had one-sidedly faced off with Reborn.

"_He is your mate, isn't he?"_

But it wasn't possible, because that would mean that Yamamoto cared for him. Tsuna knew Yamamoto didn't, it was just the other teen getting used to what he was. Something Tsuna had made him against his will.

"And you've fed from him?" Yamamoto pulled himself closer.

"Y-yeah…" Tsuna pressed himself against the wall. "Please stay over there."

Yamamoto finally stopped. His hurt expression made Tsuna's heart clench painfully in his chest. "Why, Tsuna? Can't I come closer, please?"

No, because Tsuna was hurt. He closed his eyes and hid his shaking hands behind his back. He was ashamed. If he had done as he had been told and fed regularly, Yamamoto wouldn't be the way he was. But he had been selfish and Yamamoto had had to pay the price.

Those eyes, that growl, the snarling and the possessiveness and the obsessing – that wasn't Yamamoto. That was what Tsuna had turned him into. Hell, he had turned him into a sex addict!

"You're crying again, Tsuna… Do I really make you cry so much?"

"Y-yes! Because I r-ruined your life a-and you're still so nice to me…"

"I don't think my life's ruined…"

"That's because you can't _think_!" There, he said it! He _said_ it! He catapulted off the bed and across the room away from Yamamoto. "I've been thinking _for_ you! You won't eat unless I'm eating, you w-won't have fun unless it's okay with me, you follow me a-around like a lost puppy a-and – …" It felt like his chest was empty and that something heavy was coiling and strangling his guts. Maybe his heart had turned into a savage fiend that was ripping him apart from the inside out. He would deserve it. "If you were human…" his voice dropped to a low whisper, "you wouldn't even look twice at me. Now I've forced you to do a lot of disgusting things and I can't take it back."

Yamamoto most likely would never have wanted to have sex with him back when he had been his own person, not Tsuna's fledgling. He most likely would have wanted to hang out with his friends, choose his own lovers, keep his own schedule; not wait outside No-Good Tsuna's house just so they could be late together.

But Tsuna had taken that all away from him in the dead of night, crawling along the sidewalk because he'd been too weak to walk and Yamamoto, kind, gentle Yamamoto, had just happened to come by him.

Kind, gentle Yamamoto had endured something he shouldn't have had to, still shouldn't have to, for Tsuna's stubbornness.

A shadow was cast over Yamamoto's expression as he sat there, stone still. "Is that how you feel?"

"Y-yes."

"… If that's true, then you should ask me how I feel."

Tsuna was taken aback. "H-hiee?"

"Ask me. How. I. Feel."

"H-how do you…?"

"I feel like you don't know me at all."

"Hiee?"

"Before I ran into you that night, I already liked you!" That was definitely a blush on his cheeks. "I-I thought you were really cute and your shyness was adorable too. And, even though you were always bullied, you never got angry or said anything mean about anyone. You don't have it in you to hurt anyone or anything – like that Chihauha that chases you around some mornings." He chuckled at Tsuna's mortified expression. "You're lazy and your grades aren't good, but that never mattered to me because I'm pretty much the same way, except not so lazy."

"H-hey…"

"When I admitted to myself that I had a crush on you, the fact that you had no friends made me really happy. Because I'm the jealous type – even back when I was human. I wanted to make sure no one touched you or got close to you, but I was too nervous to tell you about how I felt myself, so I just kind of convinced myself that, as long as no one else took you away, I was happy.

Then that night happened! Even though you were looking really bad, I thought, 'I can help Tsuna! This will be great!' Then you bit me… and kissed me… And when I woke up you were there with me. You said 'I'm sorry, Yamamoto-kun, I'm so sorry', and then stuttered off a lot of other things about being 'different' now and not human. I was just happy that you knew my name! You knew who I was!"

He looked down at his hands. "Then you said, 'I'll try to make this better'. Because of this thing that you did to me, I had an excuse to be with you always. And we make love a lot. The first time I was in you, I was thinking to myself, 'This is nothing like how I imagined. It's so much better!'"

Yamamoto scratched the back of his head sheepishly as Tsuna stared. The small brunette lost all feeling in his legs, arms, face, body – and he slid down the wall to the floor where he lied limply, caught in shock and despair and stupid, painful hope. "Y-you liked me?"

And, wait, as he _imagined_? He had imagined them having sex before? Okay, not sex, but _making love_?

If his face was as red as a beet, he wouldn't know. Because he was, again, numb. Like he simply couldn't take anymore and his senses had shut down on him.

"Yeah. But now it's different." Yamamoto got down on his knees on the floor and stalked towards him on all fours. "Now I love you." His head butted against Tsuna's shoulder before settling over his heart, his frantic, galloping heart that wouldn't calm down for anything. "Mah mah, you're heart's going really fast! Just like mine."

He grabbed one of Tsuna's hands and brought it to his chest. "Feel it?" Yamamoto asked.

Tsuna nodded. His voice was somewhere else, he couldn't use it, so his head bobbed and he sniffled as he choked on words that wouldn't come.

"When I tell you that I'm happy to be with you, it's because I really am! Please let me get close again, please?"

"… Y-y-yes…" Because Tsuna couldn't say no. Not to Yamamoto. His other hand came up and his arms loped around Yamamoto's shoulders, dragging him closer. "Yes."

No one had ever loved him before – not in that sense of the word, anyway.

Yamamoto crushed him to his front, burying his nose in his hair. "Is what that Reborn guy said true? Are we really mates?"

"I-I don't know."

"I hope so. I want to love you forever, Tsuna, I really do."

So corny. Tsuna closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Not again…"

"I'm sorry t-that I didn't realize your feelings sooner."

Yamamoto kissed him like he was the center of his world. Tsuna was learning pretty quickly that that was about the truth of it too. "I forgive you, Tsuna." He laughed joyfully. "I guess it's both our faults; me for not being clear to begin with and you for being..."

"So stupid?"

"So clueless. I was looking for clueless." Yamamoto kissed him again, longer, flooding his entire being with his emotions. "Now that you know, please take good care of my heart."

Even cornier.

"And of my hunger too."

And now he was alarmed. "Yamamoto-kun!"

"Call me Takeshi."

"T-Takeshi-kun."

"Please? Just Takeshi."

"Takeshi… Where did my pants go?"

"I'm getting really sneaky, Tsuna," Takeshi chirped proudly. "You should reward me."

"Hiieee!"

Maybe Yamamoto had gone a long way in assuaging his fears and guilt, but he was still a sex addict and was turning into the greatest pervert Tsuna had ever known too!

~::~

_Author's Note: MORE TO COME. _


	3. But I'm Happy To Have You

It was a disgusting mix of chocolate, whipped cream, gummy bears, gummy worms, gummy sharks, Oreo cookies, chocolate chips, caramel, cake, cupcakes, some Japanese hard candies, and other things Tsuna couldn't name for how deformed they had become.

And all of it was mixed and stirred in a single pot, being eaten by a single person that should not have been present for another five days.

"Yo, fledgling." Lambo waved at him and then stuffed a spoonful of the sugary disaster into his mouth. "Reborn wanted me down here to assure your mate that feeding from other people doesn't automatically mean you're cheating."

Tsuna slowly turned his gaze to what was an enlightened Yamamoto. "Lambo's told me a lot about what he is. Like how he can grow back his body parts if he's hit by a bus or something like that!"

"Your mate has been asking me some really strange questions," Lambo explained blandly. "I felt I had to point out that I wasn't easy to kill."

Tsuna had been told that by Reborn a few years back, actually, after he had watched Lambo take a bullet to the jugular (completely random and much to the amusement of his tutor, as well as Tsuna's own blatant horror) only to walk it off. Lambo, as a catalyst, was constantly healing himself through rapid regeneration. Once, he had asked Reborn, when he had been way younger, if Lambo could live through being dunked in a volcano.

Reborn had given him his cold, _I know something you don't_ smirk as he had cryptically started humming Russian lullabies. _"1854 was a very interesting year for us."_

Tsuna edged his way into his room and shut the (recently fixed) door behind him. "Really?"

Yamamoto beamed innocently. "And then we talked a lot about our kind! I didn't know we could get diseases. I thought we were immune to that stuff."

"Your kind gets a new disease every other millennia or so." Lambo played with his food till he found a Swedish fish. "In earlier centuries, there was this epidemic that struck your kind for generations, causing body rot, fatal allergic reaction to the sun, and madness, hence the later belief of ugly, blood ravenous creatures that roamed the night."

"Really? But Tsuna still gets burned so easily during the day." He paled suddenly, almost as white as a ghost, and snapped his head towards Tsuna so fast, his neck cracked. "You're not sick, are you?"

"He's perfectly healthy – if not slow to mature." Lambo unearthed a chunk of peanut butter. Stuck it in his mouth. Swallowed. "That's just a normal thing to be a little more sensitive to light than humans. After all, you came here wearing sunglasses, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"There you go. No need to worry."

"I just have one more question." Yamamoto waited till Lambo chugged down half a gallon of grape pop. Where it came from, Tsuna had no clue. "When you say, 'your kind', do you mean we're vampires?"

Grape soda did not go spewing everywhere, shockingly enough, but Tsuna's jaw nearly did hit the ground.

Lambo very carefully screwed the cap back onto his pop before turning a level stare towards the small brunette. "I always thought telling someone what they had become was one of the first things to do in a situation like yours."

"I-I thought I did!" Then he thought about it. Now that it was brought up, it occurred to him that he had never come out and said "vampire". It had always been "our kind" and "your kind". "Oh… Well, Takeshi, yeah. We're vampires."

"Cool! Does that mean we'll live forever?" He opened his arms like a little kid begging for his favorite toy.

Tsuna shyly sat down next to him, only to be dragged into his lap. "Hiiee!"

"Geez, fledgling, what _else_ aren't you telling him?" Lambo gave him a grouchy look.

"Is that a no?"

"W-we live longer than humans," Tsuna squeaked, "but only by a few hundred years."

"And something else you might not now – you can eat garlic. The smell's overpowering and the taste will be an explosion on your tongue, but the same goes for almost all spices and herbs if they're strong enough. You can get use to it if you really want to."

"Oh, good!" Yamamoto laughed. "I can finally have pizza again! Oh, I was wondering –"

"Fledgling." Lambo's glare could have burned him. "Yare yare, have you spent this entire time getting down and dirty with your mate instead of doing anything else?"

"It's not that!" Tsuna cried out. "He's just never asked me to tell him anything before!"

"He shouldn't have to ask you." Lambo sucked a gummy worm into his mouth.

"I should ask you questions then, Tsuna?" Yamamoto gazed warmly, curiously, _lovingly_ down at him.

"I-if you want to."

"I want to!"

"Okay…"

"So, why is it that we can eat? I mean, we already drink blood, do that weird mouth-to-mouth thing, and have lots of energizing lovemaking –"

Lambo was heard muttering, "Oh, goodness" as Tsuna choked on horror.

"So why do we eat solid food? Oh, yeah! And why can't I drink your blood?"

Lambo trudged to his feet. "You know what? I'll be downstairs with momma, so when one of you two want to be fed, just call me back up."

He left but Tsuna hardly noticed. He was mortified. All the things he had forgotten to tell Yamamoto because Yamamoto had never bothered to ask… but Lambo was right, it wasn't Yamamoto's job to ask, it was his to inform him. How would Yamamoto even know where to begin with his questions?

Tsuna cleared his throat. "We can eat solid food because… we can?" He frowned and tried to think of a good way to say it. "Like how… Um. Like how you need to drink water to survive, but there are still other things to drink like milk and soda and juice….?"

"Hhmm… I don't think I get it yet."

"Like feeding off another person's life force is our primary food source, that's like water to a human. But then we can eat food like humans can drink soda – it's not that we need it, but it still tastes good and it's filling…?"

Yamamoto pushed him into the bed, rising over him like a wave of danger. "I get it now! You're great at explaining things…, Sensei."

"H-hiieee?"

"Now why can't I drink your blood? You drank mine that first night and when that blood donor came, you let me drink hers – so why can't I drink yours?" His hips dipped between Tsuna's thighs and a very hard, very undeniable problem pushed against the front of Tsuna's school slacks.

"T-Takeshi!"

"Please give me an answer, Sensei."

He was playing with him! It was true, then, Yamamoto had definitely turned into a huge pervert!

Tsuna bit into his bottom lip. "B-because I have a very strong, very rare blood lineage… C-called Vongola! I-it's really p-powerful, but it a-always kills the vampires that drink it."

"Really? Why?" He tweaked one of Tsuna's nipples through his vest and shirt.

"Hiee! B-because it c-contains four h-h-hundred generations of sacrifice a-and violence. I-it's dirty… It's poison."

And that was the truth. His dad and mom, who loved each other more than anything else in the world, could never share blood. His dad could take his mom's blood and his mom was fed through… _other ways_, like the ways Yamamoto was fed, but his mom would never be able to withstand the force of his dad's blood.

Because it was toxic.

Yamamoto's hips came to a stop. "Don't look so sad, Tsuna, it's okay…"

"I remember when I was five years old and a guy sneaked in through my bedroom window. It was some older vampire that thought that he could use me as a power source. He kidnapped me and we drove for days away from my home. I was so scared, but I couldn't say anything because, every time I cried or even sniffled, he would hurt me. But then he stopped after the third night, thinking we wouldn't be found, and he sank his teeth i-into my chest…"

He could still see the man – not ugly like villains should be, were portrayed to be, but so beautiful that Tsuna had thought an angel had come down from heaven and that he had done something wrong to deserve being punished – leaning over him, ripping his dirty shirt off of him because he had just spent three days wiping his teary, snotty face on it, and had slashed into his chest.

At first, he had screamed, thinking he was going to die. Then the older vampire had started getting stronger, his eyes had gotten glazed, and he had ripped off small little Tsuna's pants and boxers too before undoing his own belt and taking his penis out.

"M-my blood gave him an adrenaline high a-and he g-got hard from it. So he t-tried to…" Rape him. He could still feel those two hands pulling his legs so far apart, not watching his new, improved strength, that the pain had been searing and he had thought that the vampire was trying to rip his legs off.

"Tsuna…" Yamamoto rolled over onto his side and dragged Tsuna against him, ear to his heart, and Tsuna's hands came up and tangled in his shirt. "It's okay, I'm here. I'll protect you from harm, I promise."

He shook his head and swallowed. "H-he didn't get to… _do it_, though… B-before he could – before…"

Blood. The vampire had reared back, nails scrabbling at his throat as he had wretched and wheezed and coughed, like he had just swallowed acid. The blood had boiled, literally _boiled_ over his lips and down his face and throat, burning away flesh. He had had full-body seizures, not that Tsuna had known what those were back then.

"He died," Tsuna finished because he just couldn't tell Yamamoto all that he had seen. "A-and that's why you can't h-have my blood. You'll d-die too if you do."

Yamamoto held him so close, like he wanted to absorb him into his skin, and pressed hard, desperate kisses to his forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin, lips, as if he could steal his pain. "Well, I don't want to die. Especially now that I finally have you. So I guess that's one thing we won't be able to do." He caressed a hand down Tsuna's back. "… Have you ever… When we're making love, do I ever remind you of that…?"

"No! No, never! You get a little rough at times, but," he blushed scarlet red and brushed away his tears, "but you make me feel so good. Even when I can't walk straight because of what you do to me, I can't help but want more."

"That's good to know." Yamamoto tucked his head beneath his chin. "That makes me really happy!"

He let Yamamoto nuzzle him for a moment, a small one, before pulling back. "I still have to feed, though. Before Lambo gets impatient and leaves."

"I'll do it, Tsuna!" A short pause. Yamamoto's eyes widened. "Hey, Tsuna, are you… jealous?"

Damn. It had only been a second, but Tsuna's expression must have given him away. "It's just that, Lambo's really… Beautiful." Which was strange to say about another guy, but it really was the only way to describe him. "A-and I've never actually seen him and Reborn together, though they say they're each others mates, so…"

"That's because we made the choice as a couple to remain separated most of the time," said an exasperated voice from the doorway.

"Hieee!"

"Lambo!" Yamamoto's eyes flashed protectively as his arms became iron bands around Tsuna. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to know that the fledgling here thinks I'm beautiful. Thanks, by the way. People who usually say that are only trying to get in my pants these days." Lambo sauntered in and picked up his bucket of sugary death, most likely the item he had returned for.

Or maybe he had just wanted to mess with them.

Tsuna watched him out of one terrified eye.

"But, no, it's really sad. Whenever Reborn and I get together, he just riles me up so much, _things_ happen. You know, if he wasn't so sexy, I think I would have left him by now." Yet his lips curved contently upwards and his eyes twinkled in such a way that Tsuna was now intimately familiar with.

That was the way Yamamoto looked at him. And the way he looked at Yamamoto.

"And maybe if he didn't have his sweet moments… Or know how to do that thing with his tongue that just makes me go –"

"LAMBO!" Tsuna cried.

Yamamoto, however, was intrigued. "What does he do with his tongue?"

"T-Takeshi!"

"What?" Yamamoto petted a hand down his face, thumb settling on his bottom lip. "I just want to make you feel the best I can." He laughed.

"I'll tell you another time, baby." Lambo popped a decked amount of oozing chocolate and Oreo into his mouth, chewed for a long moment, and then swallowed. "So who's puckering up?"

~::~

Tsuna had known that Reborn never made suggestions when he had idly remarked on building up on Tsuna's family.

Now he had this weird feeling that someone was watching his every move throughout school. So powerful, in fact, that the hairs on the back of his neck rose.

That, and Yamamoto was growling like a mad dog. Tsuna was seconds away from just calling it a day and getting the sports star out of there before he attacked someone.

But then the decision was taken from his hands as something fell off of the school rooftop, coming towards the ground at an accelerating, screaming, "FUUUUUCCCKK!"

Now what were the chances that Tsuna would be standing right underneath that approaching blob of – wait, was that a person? Oh, yes.

And Yamamoto, for all the mad dog skills that he had at the moment with his intense jealousy and territorial instincts, could not overcome the bad luck that was No-Good Tsuna.

Meaning that that blob landed on something softer than the ground, if not bonier too, and Tsuna said a personal hello to the reaper as it felt like his body shattered under a sudden and overwhelming weight.

"T-Tsuna!" The blob was ripped off of him and thrown somewhere over Yamamoto's shoulder as the sports star leaned over him, fear in his big red eyes. "Tsuna, are you okay?"

He coughed weakly. "M'not… gon… die." But this was going to hurt for awhile. And he thought, perhaps, that a number of his ribs were broken and that his body had cracked in two.

"You…" The blob moved and sat up. It had silver hair and spitfire green eyes that bordered on lime. "You saved my life!"

He had? Wow, he couldn't remember that through the intense _agony_ assaulting his body.

"You're my hero!"

The fact that Yamamoto's immediate reaction to the silver-haired projectile was to snarl and hit it across the face, as opposed to his usual reaction of just glaring and clenching his hands at his sides when people tried to touch Tsuna and succeeded, told Tsuna what he thought his senses would have had they been operating.

Reborn's mission to grow his family was officially in motion.

He was so screwed!


	4. In the Life of Lambo

The middle of the Sahara Desert usually worked for their purposes.

Lambo swung himself in a wide circle, sucking on a lollipop as he released short energy surges into the sand. Static raised the small particles from the ground and they swirled themselves into a pattern in the air, more particles, larger space, rising from the dunes like a storm – and Lambo was in the eye of it, sweating in the humidity, sending cohesive spears of desert soil into every direction in the small hope of catching himself something good to play with.

He smirked around his lollipop and his tongue lolled out over his lips. The usual wouldn't be bad.

As a matter of fact, he wouldn't take anything but the usual. It had been that way for as long as he could remember and he wasn't going to change it now.

A voice rose above the attack in a smug tone. "Looking for someone?"

No, it didn't rise above the attack, above the sand, above the deafening hiss of colliding grains – it came from behind. And then arms were around his waist, finding the snap of his crème convertible pants and shoving them down his legs.

"Or just looking for trouble?"

"Trouble." The storm died a quick, happy death and rained back into the dunes and dips of the Sahara. "I'm always looking for trouble."

His lollipop was stolen and thrown away somewhere as he was spun around. Pressed chest to chest against a man's chest, a man he knew… so well, so much better than anyone could ever get to know him, and lust pooled thickly in his belly.

"How long has it been?" Lambo found himself transfixed by the other man's mouth, his pale, glistening lips that Lambo just wanted to have pressed against his own… Suddenly, he felt lonely. "Yare yare, I can't remember anymore."

"The last time I fucked you or the last time we saw each other?"

"One can happen without the other?" Lambo asked, shocked. Even audio calls between them ended in filthy phone sex.

"Smartass."

"You wouldn't want me to be any other way."

Hands dipped down again and dispersed of Lambo's underwear, leaving him naked from the waist down to his calves where the convertible pants had pooled over his socks and shoes.

Without warning, experienced fingers played his manhood as other digits rediscovered Lambo's hidden entrance, exploring it slickly.

"Geh! Lubed up already?" His hands bit into Reborn's shoulders.

His mate's answer was to lick his lips and extend his fangs over his canines. "I'm hungry." A second and then a third finger penetrated Lambo, leaving no room for mercy or thought. "You may be so _kind_ as to go and kiss dozens of other people with the thought of calming yourself down, but, in the end, it's my hunger that keeps you in control."

Lips descended over his, devoured him, making him whole.

It had been too long since this had last happened. Reborn, oldest living vampire at age uncountable – and Lambo, the reason he was alive today.

Reborn – the reason why Lambo was alive today.

Of course, it wasn't like they had been awake their entire lives. For a while there, they had gone underground and slept. And had sex. Slept. Then ate. Fucked. Then slept. By the time they had decided to wake up, it had been because the noise had been too much for them to rest through, so they had thought, maybe there's something good going on now.

Reborn threw Lambo down on the dunes and followed after him with a ravenous fever burning in his black eyes. "Feed me," he demanded, leaving no room for argument.

Except Lambo always found room to argue – after how long he had lived, he had found that there was room, and time, to do a lot of things no one thought possible.

Like fall in love with the same person… Three thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine times in a row. Or was it four thousand and one times? Every so often, Reborn gave him a reason to come crawling back to his addictive body and less-than-flattering personality.

"_Feed me_, he says. I'm not a buffet, Reborn, much less your caretaker. Besides, I'm getting sand up my ass, thanks to your he-man moves."

Reborn lifted his hips off the ground and, in one smooth, brutal thrust, impaled the catalyst on his cock.

Lambo really should be used to this by now.

He should be bored out of his mind, or even resentful, when in the presence of Reborn after all this time.

But he still screamed in that first moment of glory, body arching impossibly as he became so full, so _complete_, that rational thinking went out the window and he was grappling at Reborn's shoulders, pleas falling off his lips like tears from a waterfall.

"R-REBORN!"

The vampire looked down at him with eyes that flashed golden. His fangs extended and then descended, finding and puncturing Lambo's throat before retreating, leaving a tongue to bathe and lick the wound.

His hips moved forward and back, hard, harder, impossibly hard, like he was trying to rip Lambo in two, like he was trying to force their bodies to become one, like he was punishing Lambo for something. It was hard to breathe when Reborn was being so vicious to his body, mouth feeling so good at his neck, knowing that Lambo was an endless supply of energy but not, sadly, of blood.

He clutched at handfuls of sand that crumbled in his grasp – he couldn't control himself, not when Reborn was purposely being so overbearing, looming over him like the shadow of death, inside of him so deep, Lambo could feel him at the back of his throat, _everywhere around him_, it was impossible to focus.

It was impossible to stay in control. And when Lambo couldn't control himself, well, a catalyst did what a catalyst was meant to do – it sped things right along.

The desert rose and rose and towered and rose some more over them, leaving Lambo and Reborn the centerpiece of its loping and twirling design as Reborn twisted him onto his hands and knees like a bitch in heat and reentered him, nearly tearing his inner muscles – but years of this had made Lambo more than just a little masochistic.

So many years of Reborn's sweet and delicious torture had made it impossible for him to get off any other way. Unless, obviously, any other way included Reborn. Because Reborn could talk dirty in his ear in the old languages they knew, say words no one could decipher, murmur things that would kill an old woman and make a young virgin turn into a whore, and Lambo would orgasm without even being touched by his mean and brutal mate.

The air prickled with heat, not cast by the sun, but rolling off of Lambo's skin in waves of undulated power, unmanageable because he couldn't be managed, uncontainable because he couldn't be contained.

He found Reborn's hand someone near his thigh and dragged it up his shirt to play with his chest. He liked it when Reborn pinched and twisted his nipples – _just like that_ – and he liked it when Reborn's hand snuck up through the collar and grabbed his jaw, turning his face towards the vampire so they could kiss like others would war – _just like that_.

Tongues tangled and Reborn nipped his bottom lip till it bled ruby drops into his mouth.

"Want more, _cow_?"

Oh, yes. That old nickname. That ancient, overused nickname. And he could remember being on a sacrificial alter, golden ties holding him down, a dark, shadowy beast looming over him – _"My sacrifice like cattle to gods. The waste of it."_ Oh, yes, he remembered.

The memories made him keen. "R-ready for anything you h-have!"

Because he was.

After so long, he better be.

But Reborn always found a way to surprise him. Always. So Lambo wasn't surprised when it turned out he wasn't ready.

He woke up hours later to the sweet scent of foliage and the soft brush of grass against his naked, deliciously sore flesh. Every inch of him had been used by his lover, to the point where even Lambo had stopped seeing himself as a person. He was simply, willingly, something for Reborn to play with.

He blinked his eyes open and took in his surroundings carefully.

Reborn was sitting up next to him, smoking a cigarette and eyeballing the trees and shrubs that had grown around them like a castle of green and brown. Somewhere nearby, a natural underground well of water had unearthed itself and trickled happily.

"You did it again," Reborn pointed out blankly.

Lambo stretched and lied there contentedly. He was gloriously, wonderfully _tired_. Did no one know how hard it was for him to go to sleep with all of that energy boiling inside of him like a volcano waiting to erupt?

His hand grabbled along the grass till another hand settled over his.

"Yare yare… It's not my fault." He rolled over onto his belly. Sunlight that could barely penetrate the trees warmed his devastated ass. "Like you said – it's your hunger that keeps me in control. Now how long has it been since you last devoured me…?"

"It was before the Black Plague."

"And how long ago was that?"

"I apparently didn't fuck you hard enough if you're still running your mouth."

Lambo smirked. "I'll be the first to say there are better things I could be doing with my mouth. You should let me get _down_ to it."

Reborn leered in turn. "I should. But I like seeing you desperate." He stood up, leaving a bruised, well used, naked Lambo behind him as he found his fedora and tipped it just so over his eyes. "I liked how needy you were last night. Maybe we should wait for the next plague to come around before we… feast again."

"Don't do that to me, Reborn!" He gazed up at him with his best pair of glowing, teary eyes. "Please, my ass wants you to rip it apart again sooner than that!" And then he laughed at himself, because that was a terribly funny thing to say.

Reborn smirked in turn. "The next plague could be tomorrow for all we know."

"Sooner than that!"

Reborn crouched over him and pressed a kiss to his lips, silencing him. "When you beg like that, it only makes me want to stay away longer."

"Just so you can come back and fuck me harder, am I right?"

"You know me so well."

"I've had a while to figure you out," Lambo boasted lazily. "Don't let anyone kill you, alright? I can only do so many things."

"Don't get raped," were Reborn's parting words as he stood up and produced a pair of sunglasses from seemingly nothing, perching them on his nose and turning his back on the catalyst.

Lambo rested his head on his folded arms and whispered, at the last possible second before Reborn disappeared into the brush that had grown overnight, "Love you."

Reborn's silence said it all before he was out of sight. More words filled the quiet than the quiet could fill the absence of words.

He bit down into his bottom lip and sighed. "Oh, what a beautiful day…"


	5. Happy To Have You A Long Time

It was early March, and Tsuna and Gokudera were among many that filled the Namimori High Baseball bleachers.

Gokudera was, of course, not there of his own free will. Not that he was there _against_ it either – more or less, he was only there because Tsuna was. Oh, and because Yamamoto was. It so happened that Gokudera had made it his person goal to keep them separated whenever possible and Yamamoto knew it.

Tsuna knew it too. He had had to tear the two apart just this morning before either of them had been able to inflict some serious damage on each other. Or themselves, for that matter.

Three months since Gokudera fell on him and the two still couldn't get along unless Tsuna was there to referee.

But that was beside the point because, though it would break Gokudera's heart if he said it out loud, the silverette wasn't the most important person at the moment. He had his times when he was, like two weeks ago when he had gone to one of Gokudera's piano recitals, but today was Yamamoto's day!

It was the top half of the last inning, playing against another high school team that had been, for the past five years, undefeatable. The pitcher on the mound was known for his curveballs, not that anyone could hit them, and, also, for his less than flattering insults about the male anatomy of his foe.

So far, he had called Yamamoto, in such subtle ways as to seem almost helpful to the gathered audience and game officials, a woman three times and then had caught onto that why Yamamoto kept looking to his right before going up to the pitch or the mound was because, and this was amazing on the asshole's part, of his _boyfriend_, which he made sure to point out very loudly in almost a conversational tone.

Tsuna had been singled out and more than thirteen people had moved away from him while seven others (mostly older guys) suddenly became very interested in keeping his company. Not that they got close to enough to do that either, what with Gokudera on the watch out.

Thank God for Gokudera being so temperamental, if only this once.

But that had really offset Yamamoto. Tsuna could tell. He refused to look over and give the pitcher anymore ammo to damage Tsuna with, but, in the process, he wasn't turning to Tsuna for motivation.

Yamamoto kept playing a good game, sure. But not as good as he had been doing. His team knew it and threw Tsuna, more than once, desperate looks.

Gokudera snapped out a cigarette, lit it, and threatened to burn the next motherfucker that thought to get near to Tsuna. "Tsch! That Yakyu-baka, doing things like this to you! These assholes should be showing you _respect_, not beating the air with their fucking dicks!" He took a long puff from his cancer stick. "He should lose already so we can go home, right, Jyuudaime?"

Jyuudaime – because Tsuna had broken ten ribs "saving" Gokudera and now he was officially Gokudera's "boss". Terrible, right?

But Tsuna was distracted. He had an idea, one that he was pretty sure would work, but also one that scared the hell out of him.

The pitcher was bad talking him again with the air of someone who was as kind as sunshine on a cloudy day.

"So, how'd you two meet? Bar? Street? Was it 'love at first sight'?"

Translation as he knew Yamamoto perceived it to be: Gay bar? Working as a male hooker at a corner street? Perfect strangers having sex?

"He looks sweet. Maybe you wouldn't mind if _we_ get together?"

Translation as heard by Yamamoto: I'm going to screw your boyfriend.

The bat snapped in Yamamoto's hands as the sports star closed his eyes tightly, lips pursed. Dead silence filtered through the small outdoors stadium and the Namimori coach called a hesitant, then louder, timeout before leading Yamamoto back to the pit.

Tsuna turned to Gokudera. "Stay here, okay? I have to do something."

"Jyuudaime!" Gokudera whined because he was so much like Yamamoto that he wanted constant attention – _his_ constant attention – and being apart made him look like the world's most abused puppy.

"It's okay, Gokudera-kun. I'll be right back. Meanwhile, er, would you mind…" He tried to single out the guy he would feel least guilty about having nearly slaughtered by his friend. That thought process didn't work, he felt bad no matter how many lewd smirks were thrown his way. So, finally, he just sighed. "Would you mind protecting my coat? I-it has my pictures in it…"

He hoped, even as he hoped against it, that someone would try to make a grab for his coat. Gokudera would be ecstatic if he could pick a fight.

The thing was, though, that Gokudera would win the fight, hands down, no competition. Tsuna was just worried for the poor fool Gokudera went up against.

So much for not being mean, huh?

He dashed into the pit for the Namimori team. The coach was yelling at Yamamoto, telling him to get back in the game, not just physically, but with his _soul_, like he did during all the previous games and all the practice sessions!

Then the coach saw him and immediately retreated, tilting his cap to him. "He's all yours, Sawada." He ushered the rest of the players to the opposite end of the pit, giving an inspirational speech that could be heard across the baseball field.

Tsuna knelt down next to Yamamoto. "Takeshi…"

"I-I'm losing it…" He opened his eyes and they bled scarlet red as he searched the field and found the pitcher with such an aura of _murder_ that Tsuna had to stop breathing or suffer its intent. "I'm going to kill him. You're mine, Tsuna, mine…"

That was the baby in him talking, even if he had admitted to always being jealous when others took an interest in Tsuna. He had learned to tell the difference between that of which that was instinctive and that that was emotional.

This was just a baby, trying his hardest to make sure his parent didn't leave him for someone else. It was irrational and Tsuna couldn't quite get it, but the desperate, needy look in Yamamoto's gaze as he turned to look hopelessly at him told him that getting it would not make it any better.

"What he's saying – It's not making you feel bad or anything, right?"

He shook his head and reached out, taking Yamamoto's shaking hands in both of his. "No." He was thrown off by how calm he felt. He had to stop for a moment and rethink his plan. There was fear and anxiety, but he felt overall warm with the knowledge of what he was going to do. Giddy, even.

Tsuna smiled at Yamamoto and sat down on the bench next to him. He tipped his head back and put his mouth against Yamamoto's ear, who tilted his head to accommodate him. "He can say all that he wants, but you're still going to win. Do you know why?"

The sports star shook his head with a bemused grin. "Why?"

Tsuna took a deep breath, centered himself, and then whispered shyly, "Because you're my mate and I love you." Yamamoto's breathing stopped. He looked like a frozen statue as he stared wide-eyed into nothing. Tsuna grew bolder and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. "So don't give in, alright?" He rushed to his feet, nearly fell over his own shoelaces, and then ran out of the pit, shouting behind him at the still unmoving Yamamoto and the rest of the team, "Good luck!"

The coach gave him a thumbs up before turning back to Yamamoto and demanding he get back to home and _not_ break the baseball bat this time.

Tsuna was startled to see what had happened at the bleachers while he was gone. None of the perverts were dead, luckily, but Gokudera was moping on one end of the third rise while someone else Tsuna knew slouched in the middle of the same bench.

Lambo waved lazily at him, drinking, and Tsuna was _shocked_, black coffee by the looks of it. "Yo, Fledgling. This is the last game, right?"

"Fucking catalyst…" Gokudera was muttering to himself. "Took Jyuudaime's coat from me."

Lambo handed over the jacket and Tsuna carefully took it. "Thank… you?"

Gokudera's obvious despair became even more so. "Jyuudaime was supposed to thank me," he went on, as if he had forgotten that he wasn't the only one around with enhanced hearing.

Tsuna sighed and smiled at the silverette. "Thank you, Gokudera, for… saving my seat!" That would work.

Gokudera brightened up like a Christmas tree. "It was no problem, Jyuudaime!"

"Oh, look, your baby's getting back to pitch." Lambo sipped his hot beverage. "He looks deadly serious."

Tsuna sat down and watched. Lambo was right, deadly serious defined Yamamoto perfectly in that moment, posed at the pitch with a new bat in hand, a glare cut so sharply into his features, he could have shattered a diamond.

That was determination down to the N. If there was a way to defeat that, Tsuna wouldn't know it.

He doubted the pitcher would know either, not that he didn't try to figure it out.

"Did your boyfriend give you a good luck kiss? Man, I could use one."

Translation: I'm going to screw your boyfriend.

Somehow, Tsuna understood that every other statement out of that pitcher's mouth was "I'm going to screw your boyfriend". Or, maybe, after spending so much time with Yamamoto's territorial jealousy and Gokudera's all-around paranoia, he had simply come to expect the worst to come out of anyone's mouth.

That could be really bad.

"I think that pitcher's planning on getting intimate with you," Lambo drawled after a few more sweetly sour comments.

"Really?"

"Really, Jyuudaime!" Gokudera answered him. His eyes were a green-gold, a growl resounding in his chest. "I'll make him pay for insulting you in that way!"

Tsuna grabbed him by the wrist before he could go flying into the field. "L-let's wait a bit before we do something drastic, alright?"

"… Only for you, Jyuudaime."

"Thank you, Gokudera-kun."

The silverette sulked in his little corner again. Tsuna sighed.

The gathered audience was getting impatient – the pitcher didn't seem pressed for time on throwing the damn ball. Seconds ticked by as he tried to hold a conversation that was secretly made of only insults and threats.

Tsuna had to wonder, was that allowed?

The opposing team's coach roared for the pitcher to fucking throw already.

And he realized that, if it was, then nobody cared for it.

The pitcher wound his arm back. "I guess this is it. Good luck, Mr. Dude."

"Translation: I'm going to annihilate you, fag."

Wait, how did Tsuna know he was secretly saying _that_ word?

"Because I'm the one who said it." Lambo shook his head. Tsuna flushed, wondering when he had started talking aloud. "Yare yare, I try to have fun with telling you what the bastard's actually saying and you're off in LaLa Land. So rude."

"S-sorry."

"Don't bother apologizing, Jyuudaime! The catalyst is obviously in the wrong."

"Wow, you're really starving for attention, aren't you? I'm sure mommy will give you a nice treat if you stop being such an –"

Tsuna shushed the two. "It's happening!"

The pitcher pulled his arm back.

Yamamoto slid into position.

The audience held his breath. What would happen?

What was going to happen?

The pitcher threw his signature curveball, so perfect and flawless, Tsuna couldn't even track it – especially after Yamamoto hit it so hard, it flew right out of the baseball field into the cloudy sunset.

"HOMERUN!"

Against all odds, the undefeated team was defeated. Namimori reigned supreme.

Yamamoto, after completing his run, leaped over the fence, dashed up the bleacher, and swung Tsuna up into his arms, laughing and whooping. "I love you too, Tsuna!" He dragged him into a long, deep kiss.

Gokudera gagged, somewhere in the back of his mind where he could barely focus long enough to hear anyone else that wasn't Yamamoto Takeshi.

Lambo sighed and said something like, "Young love".

And Namimori screamed and cheered and whooped and screamed some more.

They separated slowly, a sliver of blue light slipping into Tsuna's mouth at the last possible second. Yamamoto looked up at him, slightly paler but not by much, as Tsuna looked down at him, brighter, healthier, a warmer weight against him.

"That's good to know, Takeshi, because I plan on loving you for a long time."

~::~

_Author's Note: And now it is the end…_


End file.
